


kiss me on the mouth (and set me free)

by cigarettelouis



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell, Fangirl - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow series - Gemma T. Leslie
Genre: After Carry ON, Baz is annoyed, Fighting, M/M, Micah and Penny, Simon is sad, Stress, but it always gets better, mention of Agatha, sometimes life gets hard, the usual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2015-10-19
Packaged: 2018-04-27 01:14:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5028031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cigarettelouis/pseuds/cigarettelouis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three years after their time at Watford, Simon and Baz are living in London together. For a while, everything was great. But recently, things have been hard. Simon is still trying to adjust to losing his magic, and Baz hasn't been too helpful. But if there's one thing these boys have, it's each other. </p><p>//<br/>Or where Baz and Simon fight and then make-up, (typical).</p>
            </blockquote>





	kiss me on the mouth (and set me free)

**Simon** :  
  
The clock on the wall reads four-thirty and I have to fight the urge not to roll my eyes. This class is fucking dreadful. Taking Political Science at Watford was bad enough, but taking here, at university, was even worse. Plus, things were much better when I could stare at the back of Baz's neck through the lesson.  
  
But the days where we had class together were far behind us. It'd been three years since we'd finished at Watford. Three years since I defeated the Humdrum, or myself, really. Three years since I lost my magic.  
  
Life was fucking hard now. Penny moved to be with Micah, and even though she promised, she hadn't written. She told me over and over again that she wouldn't let the distance between us effect us in any way but it'd been months now without a word. New York and London hadn't seemed so far the morning she left, her small suitcase practically glued to her side. But now, it seemed like light years away, like no matter how many spells or swears or promises she made, she was untouchable now.  
  
I missed her so much. Penny was a part of me, a part of my childhood. It was bad enough I'd lost my magic, something that meant so much to me, but now I'd lost my best friend too.  
  
After what seems like an eternity, the professor I've been completely ignoring dismisses the class. He waves his hands, trying to remind the class about the weekend coursework, but it's useless. Everyone is piling out the door, anxious to get to their own version of home.  
  
Home. There's a nice thought. Home to me looked like the flat Baz and I shared. It looked like one bed, not two, and two sets of dirty dishes in the sink. Home to me was cedar body wash and fogged mirrors, because showers in our household were shared.  
  
Unfortunately, that version of Home wasn't really there for me so much anymore.  
  
Baz and I were fighting more than ever, (and yes, that includes all of the attempted murders). It wasn't as dramatic-but those arguments, the gnash your teeth, frustrating arguments were happening everyday.  
  
He was working at Watford all the bloody time. And he'd come home sweaty and frustrated and cursing the, "fucking place". Then he'd see me and I'd see him and what used to be an evening filled with love and kisses and promises was now brief glances and mumbled apologies and annoyance.  
  
Because I was working a stupid job at my stupid mundane university and I felt boring. I felt like these grand expectations everyone had for me I had for myself and when I didn't live up to them, I was nothing.  
  
Baz would tell me, "Okay, but Snow, you're alive,".  
  
But was I? God, I couldn't remember the last time I'd felt good about myself. And Baz, although he didn't always try, made me feel worse.  
  
It wasn't his fault I was jealous of him. I just was. He had the magic still. He could open the gate. He could spell the bed made. He never got sick, he was superhuman. But the one time I'd expressed my jealousy, he'd gotten furious.

"You're jealous of me? How the fuck does that work?" He had shouted, his eyes narrowed into slits. "How do you possibly get to be jealous of me, Snow? In what twisted scenario is that okay? Okay, so you can't fucking nuke something anymore. You can't fuck up any more spells. And yeah, you have the tail. But Crowley, Snow you're fucking normal. You can blend in. You can have a normal job and if you wanted, a normal life and kids and God, you could have it ALL!"

He looked like he was going to cry then, and I remember feeling a little glad. He hadn't shown this much emotion in months.

"You can't possibly be jealous of me. I am nothing, Snow, I'm dead. I have to drain rats and mice and rabbits so that I don't fucking bite you in my sleep, Snow. I have to live with the fact that I could kill you at any moment. I am a monster, the worst fucking kind. You have no right to be jealous of me."

Baz cried himself to sleep that night, and when I put my hand on his hip, he pulled away. That was the first fight, the one that started it all.

I walk home now, pulling my coat closer as the freezing wind whips past me. I feel a familiar lump in my throat as I open the door to our flat minutes later, and all of the lights are on. Baz leaves them on even when we are out because he's always been afraid of the dark, even when he's not looking at it.

I fucking love him so much, I think to myself as I start taking off my coat, I wonder if he knows.

 

**Baz:**

Being at Watford is much better when you are getting paid to be there. Also, it's much better when you don't want to commit murder against the man in charge. But, it's still not great.

At first, I though I'd go to a normal school, maybe get a normal job. But I couldn't. The normal schools were bloody terrible, and I missed magic. I missed being around it far more than I ever thought possible. So two years after graduating from Watford, I returned, this time, with a resume.

I was hired fairly quickly, and currently taught a course for first-years, "Intro to Spelling". I hated it, but not as much as I thought I would. There was something about being in charge made me feel great. Of course, I'm only feeling great on the good days.

Lately, it's been a little difficult. Simon's being a total prat most of the time, and it's too bloody freezing for the rats, and I don't have too many food options. So, I'm hungry, and therefore, even more irritable.

I used to count the minutes until I could go home to Snow. I used to spell myself to our flat so quickly I'd have to lie down afterwards, but it'd be okay because Snow would kiss me as soon as I got home. I take the train now.

It's the little things I miss the most. I miss the way he'd reach for me, always pulling me closer, even if we were only inches away. He does this still sometimes in his sleep. I don't think he knows, but I do. He'll be half awake and dreaming, and he'll reach across the space we put between ourselves when we fought and he'll hold me. I always cry when he does this. I miss the morning kisses and the how he used to tie my tie for me. I just miss him, I miss him so much.

But every time I think things are getting better, we fight again, and we're right back to the start. We're tired, and fighting to us is like breathing-subconscious and done without thinking.

Class starts in a few minutes, and students are starting to come through the door. They are all wearing their jumpers, and my heart twists a little when I see them. I was like that not too long ago. Just years ago I was in this class, and so was Snow. We learned the spell to tie things together, and I practiced by knotting his shoestrings together.

I look down, lost in memories, and don't remember where I am until there's a small voice, scared but sure.

"Sir? Are you allright?"

I jerk my head up, and there he is.

He's both my favorite and least-favorite student.

"I'm fine, Symon, let's get started,".

His name is Symon. He's skinny, and blonde, more blonde than my Simon. But on the first day of school, he held his wand backwards, and all I could do was stare. It's like even when Simon's not with me, he's there somewhere.

I love it even though it hurts.

I give my lecture and then give the students some free time to practice their spells. Today, they are learning how to do basic cleaning spells. It should be easy, but for some, it is not. I sit down at my desk and loosen my tie. I'm tired, and the students are preoccupied, so I let myself relax. I try not to let my eyes wander to the left, but I know it's no use.

Symon may be my favorite student, but there's a pair of boys I love to admire. That sounds really creepy, and I promise that this not a weird vampire stalking thing. It's just, there's these two boys who sit in the front left row of the class, and they're roommates. I know because they told me on the first day of school. They say it like it's the best thing that's ever happened, and maybe somewhere down the line, it will be.

But the reason I'm so drawn to them is how they act towards one another. With Simon and I, it's always been longing glances when you didn't think the other was looking, or saying, "I hate you!" but knowing that it was the biggest lie you've ever told.

But these boys, they don't even pretend. The taller one, the red head, hands something to the smaller one, and their hands brush. They both blush, and then laugh. I can feel my heart warm just from watching them. I can't help but wonder what would have happened if Simon and I started like that-instead of the hatred. I wonder if we've really ever gotten past that.

Half an hour later, I dismiss the class. It's Friday, and I can hear scattered conversation about weekend plans.

I look out the window at the storm that's starting. I pull on my coat and think about Simon, and how I hope he's walked home already.

I decide to spell myself home today.

 

 **Simon** :

 I'm washing the dishes when he comes home. I've just finished the last plate when I hear something like a crash in the living room, and I shut off the water quickly and hurry to see what it was.

I didn't expect it because he hasn't spelled himself home in a few months. It takes a shit ton of energy, and he hasn't gotten much of that lately. But there he is, slumped in a chair, looking suddenly exhausted. I walk up to him, and at first I think he might be sleeping. His eyes are shut, his impossibly long eyelashes resting on his cheeks, and his chest is rising slowly-in and out.

He looks so tired, and I instinctively reach out and put my palm on his arm. I try to push, push the life into him, like maybe there's a little bit left in me. If I had any magic left, I'd give it to Baz. I'd give it to him every time, even though I miss it.

But it doesn't work. There's no more magic, just more tiredness.

Baz opens his eyes slowly, and I realize my hand is still on his arm. I give him a little squeeze, and he smiles. Like an actual smile. My heart stops. Oh Merlin, that smile. I'm tired, and bored, and lonely but when Baz smiles at me like that I'm the most important man in the universe.

"Simon," He starts, and that's how I know it's a good day. He used my first name. I love how he says it, because it saves it. He saves my name for when he wants to make something special. It works. He says it like it's a secret. "Simon,".

"Hi, Baz", I say. My heart is beating faster than it has in weeks. I feel so good suddenly, I feel like running a marathon, I feel magical. Baz looks so good right now, in his professor's uniform. His tie is loosened, and his shoulder-length hair is curled at the edges and falling into his face. He must have had an exceptionally good day, because he hasn't been like this in forever.

I smile at him, and realize that maybe it's me too. I mean, all I want to do to Baz right now is everything good. I miss him. I love him. I am lucky to have him. I open my mouth to tell him that, but he stops me.

He slips one of his slim fingers up to my mouth to quiet me, and then slides his hand so that he's holding my face. His fingertips touch each of the moles I have on my cheek-he's always loved them, I don't know why.

"I'm sorry," He says, and just liek that, the bridges are burned. All of my walls are down. An apology from Baz is a special thing and a fucking rare one at that.

"It's alright-"

"Snow, shut up and let me finish," He barks, and I roll my eyes. I can't help but smile though.

"I'm sorry for  a lot of things. I'm sorry I'm angry at you too quickly. I feel like a lot of times, I don't even give you a chance. I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I haven't been listening. I know you hate your stupid school, and I'm sorry about that. I want to hear you, I really do. I like when you talk to me. I guess what I'm trying to say is that for the last few months, I've been a prick. I'm sorry."

I let out a low whistle, "That's a lot of apology right there, Baz. How humble of you."

He narrows his eyes but then lets out a laugh, "Be quiet!"

I turn serious, and brush a lock of hair out of his face, tucking it behind his ear, "I'm sorry too. I feel a lot of anger toward myself, and I know that I push it on to you sometimes. I love you, and I'm sorry."

Baz gives me a smirk then, the kind that means danger and trouble and the kind I love the most.

"You love me, do you?"

He looks at me like he used to, like he still does, three years later. "Prove it." He whispers into my neck.

I growl and Baz laughs and I feel like I'm eighteen and on top of the world again. Baz has always known how to set everything on fire, hasn't he?

 

**Baz:**

 When I look at him, I still see the boy I fell in love with. He's stronger now, more muscle than bone. He eats all year round now instead of just in the school year, and it shows. He's taller, but not as tall as I am. He still has the same face though, vulnerable and freckled and perfect. I guess I must look a little different as well, although all I notice is that my hair has grown. 

But when I look at Simon, it's like all those years coming back to me. I see that time in sixth year I walked in on him in the shower, (and the nights I spent thinking of it afterwards). I see the first time we kissed, and all of the times afterward. I look at him and I see my future. Simon Snow is my always, and I never forget that, even in the bad moments.

I look at him now. The sun has set, and the room in dark except for the nightlight Simon bought for me, but I can still see. He is sleeping peacefully, his mouth open and one of his hands loosely gripping my wrist. I look down at my chest and scoff.

Earlier, he'd pinned me down and sucked lovebites into my neck and collarbone even though I was laughing at him the whole time. He looked proud at the end, and said, "I think I'm a better vampire than you."

I looked at them now, purple and pulsing, and felt the blood rush to my cheeks, (I'd fed before I went home, luckily there were still rats underneath the school, just like the old days).

I turned on my side, and used my free hand to run my fingers through Simon's hair.

"You're made of more magic to me now than you ever were before, Simon Snow." I tell him, "You'll always be the chosen one to me,"

I'll tell him again when he wakes up, because he needs to hear it. Because it is the truth.

But for now, I'll let him rest.

I kiss him forehead, and then the mole on his cheek, and then the one on his neck. I can feel his pulse. I listen to his heart beating, and I listen to the blood rushing through his body. 

So fucking alive.

"Carry on, Simon."

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this becuase of a lot of reasons. First of all, I fucking loved, "Carry On". It's truly a masterpiece. I want a million more books, a t.v. series, and a movie ASAP, pronto. But I also wrote this because I feel as though there's a few things I wanted to touch on in their relationship. The main thing I wanted to stress is that their relationship is NOT going to be perfect. I mean I'm pretty sure that arguing to Simon and Baz is like breathing. They've been fighting since they were eleven years old. And yes, they love one another, but I'm not so sure that the arguing would instantly stop just becuase of their relationship. Maybe, their relationship would even be a cause of the fighting. 
> 
> Also, I wrote this because I really wanted to go into the whole Simon minus his powers thing. I feel like this is the one thing I didn't love about the ending of the novel. Simon has identified with his strength and power for almost half of his life. To suddenly not have the thing that made him special and different would be a lot more difficult than what was portrayed in the novel. And so .. this was born. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> The title is from Troye Sivan's, "Bite" something that goes along BEAUTIFULLY with the story of Simon & Baz.


End file.
